Even after the village had been built and everyone had moved into their new homes, the hunting routine of the orcs and gnolls didn't stop. It became the heartbeat of the settlement.
Every morning, the hunting parties would vanish into the dense, dark foliage of the [Cursed Forest], and every night, they would return with their spoils. Just like a clockwork ritual, they would still offer a mountain of monster corpses to Verc.
'Just how many monsters are there in this forest...?'
Verc thought to himself as he looked down from his balcony at the latest heap of carcasses. He had been expecting the population of the monsters in the [Cursed Forest] to go down by now because of the constant hunting and killing.
Dozens of monsters were being slaughtered every single day, yet the hunters never seemed to run out of targets. It was as if the forest was breathing them out from its very depths.
